Pope Joan: The AntiChrist
by pdragon76
Summary: A drunken Dean expresses himself in the best way he knows how.  Bela gets what's coming.  Warnings for language.  And um, peeing in public.


**Disclaimer:** All things Supernatural belong to Kripke, not me (rinse & repeat).

**Author's Notes:** _The nine of diamonds has been known as the Curse of Scotland for a long time, the first record in print being in 1710. The reason for this is not clear, but there have been plenty of explanations put forward over the years. The most common one comes from the card game 'Pope Joan', where the nine of diamonds is called the Pope, the antichrist of Scottish religious reformers._

Unbeta'd, so all niggles, wtfs and humdingers are mine, all mine. It's kimonkey7's birthday, and no one took a pass at the last foundficspn challenge # 26 so… I has made fic. For both these reasons. Happy birthday, the Monkeys.

* * *

"Pick a card." She leans forward across the table, ducks her chin and wiggles her shoulders.

And Dean's just about drunk enough to play along. Wonders what the hell is taking Sam so long. But, whatever. The penny drops while she's fanning the deck behind her perfectly manicured fingers.

Sam didn't need to piss. He's bailed, almost certainly taken the car, and he probably thinks he's pretty funny. Dean'll have something to say about that tomorrow. If he remembers.

He probably won't have anything to say about that tomorrow.

"Go on," she prompts, and the smile is all _six-years-old_, and _Daddy's-little-girl_. Dean thinks he's never wanted to hit a kid so much in his entire life.

But he's drunk, so what the hell. He picks the last card, the one hiding her right thumb. Yanks it out with a flourish, flicks it sharply back towards her so she flinches before he flips it between two fingers and brings it up to his face.

Nine of diamonds. It gets a sharp laugh out of him, loud enough to turn a couple of heads at the bar.

Dean leans back on his chair so far it almost tips. He makes a drunken grab for the table, stops himself going over backwards. "There you have it. Curse of Scotland. The fuckin' Anti-Christ. Certainly clears a few things up."

Bela gathers the cards in her hand, waggles a finger until he hands back the nine of diamonds. She slides it into the pile a third of the way down, splits the deck and folds the halves in on each other. They collapse in a flawless, practiced blur, and he can see he's supposed to be impressed. But Dean's played a bit of poker in his time.

"It's a perfectly legitimate job, Dean. I didn't come all this way for you to turn me down."

"Actually, yes. You did. Sam told you where you can stick the job, Bela." Dean leans forward, chills the air between them with his glare. "You know how hard I laughed when Sam told me you called?"

Bela looks as though she can't wait to hear, until she realizes his stony face is the answer.

"Laughed so hard, I damn near pulled a muscle." He stands up, sniffs down at her. "You remember what I told you when you set Gordon Walker on our asses?"

Bela keeps her eyes on him, lifts the corner of one lip in an infuriating, lop-sided smirk. "Oh, come now, Dean. You're not still mad about that are you? I told you where to find him. Even stevens."

"The next time you hit us up for a favor? I'm gonna belt you back. Sam's got the polite '_No, thank you'_, thing going on, but I can't think of single thing I'd like more than to kick your ass."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna take a piss, and then I'm leavin'."

She chocks the cards against the table, pouts. "I haven't finished my trick."

Dean drains the last of his beer, cracks the empty bottle hard onto the tabletop, and rustles up an explosive bark of a belch. "Trust me. Whatever you've got up your sleeve? I've seen it before."

Bela crosses her arms, leans back in her chair as he turns to the door. "Did you say you'd like to kick my ass or kiss it?"

He tosses her the bird on his way out.

* * *

It takes him a while to find her car. And he's feeling like a real man of his word, as he tugs open the button fly of his jeans and gets down to it. Gives the side of her sporty little number the premium full strength soak.

Dean palms the top of the car and gives the driver door handle his full attention. He's chuckling like a five year old as he tucks back in, pulls the nine of diamonds out of his jacket.

_How do you like that little trick, Bela?_

He fishes a pen from his inside pocket. Scrawls the note across the card and leaves it tucked down under the wipers.

He trips a little on the curb as he leaves the lot.

* * *

Thanks for reading :-) Pdragon76 


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